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‘Red Dead Redemption 2’ is the Grand Embodiment of One Existential Fear

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One of my fondest memories from Red Dead Redemption 2 is from my first play session with it, almost four months ago. It was just past midnight, and I had no earthly idea where my horse had run off to. Hoping not to lose my way in the wilderness, I kept close to the train tracks outside Valentine. It’s there I noticed something hanging in the support beams beneath—a body, crucified and missing a head.

After a quick investigation, one thing became clear: this was the start of a tantalizing side-quest chain told mostly through maps, crime scenes, and environmental clues. No waypoints or dialogue trees told me where to go next. I’d need to explore every inch of the world to find more bodies and clues. Had I not prodded around some dingy train tracks, I could’ve missed one of the most interesting threads of RDR2. But even then, once I had found the “starting point,” I wasn’t guaranteed to find the rest.

The Unsettling Swamplands of Red Dead Redemption 2.

This thought gnawed at me through my next few sit-downs with RDR2. “Is the next victim over that hill? Perhaps in that small forest?” Surely I had missed it. And as stories and GIFs of the game spread across Twitter, I noticed other details I’d missed; snarky interactions in town, a happenstance passerby on the trail, or a harrowing homestead scenario.

Red Dead Redemption 2 is fun, but it’s gushing with content. Perhaps a vast chunk of that content is inconsequential, but the game also taps into an existential fear that haunts me in real life—the fear of missing out. With all its positives, RDR2 becomes a grotesque manifestation of my anxiety, weaved into a morbid Western setting.

Every waking moment in my final weeks of 2018 was a delicate balancing act of time. I had to go to work, deal with my commute, think about dinner, worry through the holidays, make time for friends and family, write articles as a freelancer, then play a game. The sheer thought of planning my week burned me out and flared my anxiety. Things began to drop. Some days I just put off writing, other days I wrote too much and ignored my friends. It never helped that my friends ended up having the time of their lives, or my fellow freelancers put out their best work. I was tapped into two very different worlds, and feeling that I was losing the best of both.

The Unpleasant Weight of Red Dead Redemption 2’s Combat.

So when my to-do list was checked off and I kicked back with Red Dead Redemption 2, I wasn’t exactly open to the feeling that I was missing out there, too. I could use what little time I had to marathon the story beats, thereby missing loads of side content. I could piddle around in the woods, just waiting for Twitter to spoil the ending for me. The option I tried was to take my time, finding the silver lining in both. But again, I was surely missing something. There had to be a “proper way” to play this, one that I simply wasn’t seeing. And the thought of playing a game the “wrong way,” missing something crucial that made the experience worthwhile, chilled me to my core.

In the end, I had one choice left. I dropped Red Dead Redemption 2 around 15 hours in. Even then, it terrifies me; there’s an entire game I’m missing out on. Around every corner lurks another unread article or unheard Game of the Year discussion on why RDR2 is one of the greatest experiences of last year. In every Discord channel, in every Twitch chat, there’s a clamor that I can’t identify with. I can’t run away, in any sense of the phrase.

What scares me the most is that more and more games will balloon ever-outward into hundred-hour adventures with endless side stories. Last year I dropped RDR2, but what will it be next? Cyberpunk 2077, predictably. But then follows sequels to The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild and Persona 5, two entities I immensely enjoyed during a separate epoch. Will I be too busy for those? Do I want to be?

Do my life goals ultimately line up to destroy the very enjoyment of having those goals? As it stands now, that’s the nature of humanity for me: being so consumed by so many good things at once that I’ve got time for none of them. A perpetual string of experiencing life, but missing out on detail after detail after detail. Things happen, but lose significance.

People enjoy these styles of games. There’s merit to that, and I don’t expect lengthy experiences to disintegrate. Nor do I want them to. I’d simply like to enjoy them the same way I used to, free from this fear of missing out. Perhaps one day I can return and find Red Dead Redemption 2’s serial killer. But first, I’ll need to stop killing my own focus by fantasizing about what I may be missing.

Dylan is a freelance journalist and laboratory scientist. He spends a bit of time thinking on Pikachu, blood cells, and how he can write about both.

Editorials

‘Amityville Karen’ Is a Weak Update on ‘Serial Mom’ [Amityville IP]

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Amityville Karen horror

Twice a month Joe Lipsett will dissect a new Amityville Horror film to explore how the “franchise” has evolved in increasingly ludicrous directions. This is “The Amityville IP.”

A bizarre recurring issue with the Amityville “franchise” is that the films tend to be needlessly complicated. Back in the day, the first sequels moved away from the original film’s religious-themed haunted house storyline in favor of streamlined, easily digestible concepts such as “haunted lamp” or “haunted mirror.”

As the budgets plummeted and indie filmmakers capitalized on the brand’s notoriety, it seems the wrong lessons were learned. Runtimes have ballooned past the 90-minute mark and the narratives are often saggy and unfocused.

Both issues are clearly on display in Amityville Karen (2022), a film that starts off rough, but promising, and ends with a confused whimper.

The promise is embodied by the tinge of self-awareness in Julie Anne Prescott (The Amityville Harvest)’s screenplay, namely the nods to John Waters’ classic 1994 satire, Serial Mom. In that film, Beverly Sutphin (an iconic Kathleen Turner) is a bored, white suburban woman who punished individuals who didn’t adhere to her rigid definition of social norms. What is “Karen” but a contemporary equivalent?

In director/actor Shawn C. Phillips’ film, Karen (Lauren Francesca) is perpetually outraged. In her introductory scenes, she makes derogatory comments about immigrants, calls a female neighbor a whore, and nearly runs over a family blocking her driveway. She’s a broad, albeit familiar persona; in many ways, she’s less of a character than a caricature (the living embodiment of the name/meme).

These early scenes also establish a fairly straightforward plot. Karen is a code enforcement officer with plans to shut down a local winery she has deemed disgusting. They’re preparing for a big wine tasting event, which Karen plans to ruin, but when she steals a bottle of cursed Amityville wine, it activates her murderous rage and goes on a killing spree.

Simple enough, right?

Unfortunately, Amityville Karen spins out of control almost immediately. At nearly every opportunity, Prescott’s screenplay eschews narrative cohesion and simplicity in favour of overly complicated developments and extraneous characters.

Take, for example, the wine tasting event. The film spends an entire day at the winery: first during the day as a band plays, then at a beer tasting (???) that night. Neither of these events are the much touted wine-tasting, however; that is actually a private party happening later at server Troy (James Duval)’s house.

Weirdly though, following Troy’s death, the party’s location is inexplicably moved to Karen’s house for the climax of the film, but the whole event plays like an afterthought and features a litany of characters we have never met before.

This is a recurring issue throughout Amityville Karen, which frequently introduces random characters for a scene or two. Karen is typically absent from these scenes, which makes them feel superfluous and unimportant. When the actress is on screen, the film has an anchor and a narrative drive. The scenes without her, on the other hand, feel bloated and directionless (blame editor Will Collazo Jr., who allows these moments to play out interminably).

Compounding the issue is that the majority of the actors are non-professionals and these scenes play like poorly performed improv. The result is long, dull stretches that features bad actors talking over each other, repeating the same dialogue, and generally doing nothing to advance the narrative or develop the characters.

While Karen is one-note and histrionic throughout the film, at least there’s a game willingness to Francesca’s performance. It feels appropriately campy, though as the film progresses, it becomes less and less clear if Amityville Karen is actually in on the joke.

Like Amityville Cop before it, there are legit moments of self-awareness (the Serial Mom references), but it’s never certain how much of this is intentional. Take, for example, Karen’s glaringly obvious wig: it unconvincingly fails to conceal Francesca’s dark hair in the back, but is that on purpose or is it a technical error?

Ultimately there’s very little to recommend about Amityville Karen. Despite the game performance by its lead and the gentle homages to Serial Mom’s prank call and white shoes after Labor Day jokes, the never-ending improv scenes by non-professional actors, the bloated screenplay, and the jittery direction by Phillips doom the production.

Clocking in at an insufferable 100 minutes, Amityville Karen ranks among the worst of the “franchise,” coming in just above Phillips’ other entry, Amityville Hex.

Amityville Karen

The Amityville IP Awards go to…

  • Favorite Subplot: In the afternoon event, there’s a self-proclaimed “hot boy summer” band consisting of burly, bare-chested men who play instruments that don’t make sound (for real, there’s no audio of their music). There’s also a scheming manager who is skimming money off the top, but that’s not as funny.
  • Least Favorite Subplot: For reasons that don’t make any sense, the winery is also hosting a beer tasting which means there are multiple scenes of bartender Alex (Phillips) hoping to bring in women, mistakenly conflating a pint of beer with a “flight,” and goading never before seen characters to chug. One of them describes the beer as such: “It looks like a vampire menstruating in a cup” (it’s a gold-colored IPA for the record, so…no).
  • Amityville Connection: The rationale for Karen’s killing spree is attributed to Amityville wine, whose crop was planted on cursed land. This is explained by vino groupie Annie (Jennifer Nangle) to band groupie Bianca (Lilith Stabs). It’s a lot of nonsense, but it is kind of fun when Annie claims to “taste the damnation in every sip.”
  • Neverending Story: The film ends with an exhaustive FIVE MINUTE montage of Phillips’ friends posing as reporters in front of terrible green screen discussing the “killer Karen” story. My kingdom for Amityville’s regular reporter Peter Sommers (John R. Walker) to return!
  • Best Line 1: Winery owner Dallas (Derek K. Long), describing Karen: “She’s like a walking constipation with a hemorrhoid”
  • Best Line 2: Karen, when a half-naked, bleeding woman emerges from her closet: “Is this a dream? This dream is offensive! Stop being naked!”
  • Best Line 3: Troy, upset that Karen may cancel the wine tasting at his house: “I sanded that deck for days. You don’t just sand a deck for days and then let someone shit on it!”
  • Worst Death: Karen kills a Pool Boy (Dustin Clingan) after pushing his head under water for literally 1 second, then screeches “This is for putting leaves on my plants!”
  • Least Clear Death(s): The bodies of a phone salesman and a barista are seen in Karen’s closet and bathroom, though how she killed them are completely unclear
  • Best Death: Troy is stabbed in the back of the neck with a bottle opener, which Karen proceeds to crank
  • Wannabe Lynch: After drinking the wine, Karen is confronted in her home by Barnaby (Carl Solomon) who makes her sign a crude, hand drawn blood contract and informs her that her belly is “pregnant from the juices of his grapes.” Phillips films Barnaby like a cross between the unhoused man in Mulholland Drive and the Mystery Man in Lost Highway. It’s interesting, even if the character makes absolutely no sense.
  • Single Image Summary: At one point, a random man emerges from the shower in a towel and excitedly poops himself. This sequence perfectly encapsulates the experience of watching Amityville Karen.
  • Pray for Joe: Many of these folks will be back in Amityville Shark House and Amityville Webcam, so we’re not out of the woods yet…

Next time: let’s hope Christmas comes early with 2022’s Amityville Christmas Vacation. It was the winner of Fangoria’s Best Amityville award, after all!

Amityville Karen movie

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